


Belief

by artlessICTOAN



Series: Rivalry [2]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Mello definitely doesn't know how to deal with his crush, Relationship Study, Rivalry, Wammy's Era, Wammy's House is not a nice place to grow up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 20:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artlessICTOAN/pseuds/artlessICTOAN
Summary: Mello had very few people at Wammy’s House who would put up with him.An exploration of Mello's thoughts on his rival, companion piece to Complacency.





	Belief

**Author's Note:**

> so I just finished reading the manga for the first time and…. hot dAMN did the anime not do mello justice, jfc they cut out so much of the cool, clever shit he did! over the course of reading he actually shot from being my 3rd/4th fave dn char _right_ up to number 2 ~~which is just _so_ fitting really, in the most bluntly ironic way possible~~
> 
> this is a companion piece to my other oneshot Complacency - though each can be read separately, in whatever order - and I might do a third one from Matt’s pov if inspiration strikes??? dunno, we’ll see I guess, I just really Cannot get enough of these two’s relationship tbh, it’s so weird since I normally go for the unabashedly fluffy ships..
> 
> anyways, hope you enjoy!

\---

Mello had very few people at Wammy’s House who would put up with him.

It hadn’t taken him long to notice how the various supervisors whose job it was to keep them happy and safe always seemed reluctant to speak to him – and only then to either scold or warn him – and, unlike everyone else in the house, he wasn’t favoured with snuck-in treats, leniency and warm smiles.

Of course, that was how it was _supposed_ to be here; this wasn’t a true orphanage, this wasn’t a place of sanctuary and love, dedicated to nurturing those poor souls left in its care. Wammy’s was a factory and it was run that way.

They weren’t children, they were commodities to be tested and developed and, while a comfortable and providing environment certainly helped in that task, it wasn’t Wammy’s main concern. But human nature always came through in the end and many of the carers had grown at least a little attached to their charges, everyone had a favourite, everyone was favoured.

Not Mello though, he was left to himself and given only the minimum attention required to keep him content and healthy.

Even among the other children, he had few friends, the older kids were either jealous or disdainful of him and the younger ones were terrified – which was a little insulting, seeing as he’d never actually _done_ anything to any of them. Perhaps he was a little rough in play, but he wasn’t anywhere near as brutal as he was capable of, or as others had always been to him.

No, even without causing anyone any direct harm, he was just too much, too competitive, too vindictive, too fanatical, too smug, too ambitious, too _intense_.

Nobody could stand his company or attention for long – not even his best friend, who would often retreat into his various game-worlds to escape him for a few hours and probably didn’t listen to half the things he said.

But, then there was Near. Quiet and apathetic Near, who deemed every other kid in the orphanage as a nuisance, content with just his puzzles and robots, regularly going days without saying a word.

Of all people, _he_ should have been the one most exhausted by Mello, but… he wasn’t.

Near would actually listen and respond, no matter how long Mello’s rants lasted; he never complained about the pranks pulled on him, just set into motion his own childish plans that no one else believed he could be involved with, no matter how _obvious_ that satisfied little smirk of his was; when others would try to pull his attention away from his studies, from his _goal_ , Near would just watch in silence, not judging, but recognising, even admiring, his determination; Near never failed to dispute him in class, poking and prodding with his barbed words to pull a reaction from the blond boy; he didn’t flinch away from his hard stares, he met them head-on, even though eye contact was something he avoided with anyone else, with that smug little smile that Mello so despised – and yet always felt a tiny, secret thrill at seeing.

Really, _Mello_ was the one who found most often himself exhausted by Near’s constant attention, expectation, the silent demand in those dark eyes to _do better, work harder, c’mon Mello, is this really all you’re capable of? You don’t want to lose to me again, do you?_

But, tiring as it was, it was often the only thing keeping him going. Without those dull, grey eyes egging him on, he doubted he’d ever have gone to the lengths that he did, to the point of single-minded focus on beating an opponent, regardless of the disapproval of others, or the nagging of his own body every time he skipped a meal in favour of digging through the library, searching for that one edge, the thing that would finally see him succeed.

No one else believed it was possible, not his friends, not his enemies, not his teachers or carers, not even himself when he was struck by one of his low moods; Near seemed to think that he could though, he always said so, with both his unwavering gaze and his words, when asked directly.

And Near was right about _everything_.

He was regularly cornered by Matt – after being defeated yet again, or in the preparation of another – who would sit with him as he studied, peppering him with questions, with lazily performed innocence and poorly concealed intent.

“You know it’s never gonna happen, right?”

Mello glared at the book on his desk, but didn’t lift his gaze from it for even a second. “Shut up Matt,” he said, with none of the bite one might expect at such a comment, given his temperament. But no, that had to be reserved entirely for Near.

His friend was never one to be put off by a negative reaction though. “Just saying. I don’t see why it bothers you so much though, you _have_ beaten him before – Roger told me that you were number one in class for the first few months you were here.”

Even as his hand stayed steady, no stroke faltering as he took notes, his frown deepened and he had to restrain the urge to growl. “That doesn’t count.”

“Sure it does, you and Near both took the same tests, you came first, he came last, it totally counts!”

“No, I didn’t win because I was better,” he said, tone calm and controlled, though he ripped a page of his textbook turning it just slightly too fast, “I won because he _let_ me win; if he’d actually bothered to answer the questions, instead of sitting there doing nothing, then he would’ve beaten me then too, which should be obvious, Matt, by the fact that in under a week he went from getting zero percent on every test, to one-hundred.”

There was a slight hum from his friend and out of the corner of his eye, Mello could see him shrugging. He could already guess what he was going to say, even before he said it. “Win’s a win mate.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s the exact same excuse you give when you use cheat codes.”

Matt snorted, pushing himself to his feet. “Yep, you should really try it out sometime, at least I’m having _fun_ ,” he said, flicking at his ear as he went to leave.

The attack was easily dodged, but he couldn’t stop the smirk crawling into his features.

“Who said I’m not?”

As much as it gnawed at him, as angry as he sometimes got, as many times as he’d forgone sleep and food in the hopes of finally surpassing his rival… he loved it; loved the attention, loved the competition, loved the knowledge that there was one person in the world who could not only handle him – even at his most intense – but challenge him, and who saw him as a worthy challenge themself…

More than loved it, he _needed_ it, and so did Near, even if no one else could see that past the bored voice and constant distracted play. He knew it though, he could see it in the surreptitious glances and indirect dares.

One day, he’d beat him to the finish line, until then, he’d just have to make sure that gaze _never_ had the opportunity to drift anywhere else.

\---

**Author's Note:**

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